


A false note

by HarleyJade



Category: Ylvis
Genre: Bård gets injured, Bård's and mine, Gen, based on two true stories, h/c, seriously this is therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-03-26 16:19:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3857074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarleyJade/pseuds/HarleyJade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A h/c fic based on Bård breaking a vertebra in his spine during his aerial silk performance. Told with first hand experience in having broken vertebrae.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yo guys, this is a mix - up of what we know about Bård having a crack in one of his vertebra in his neck and my experience in breaking a few vertebrae in my back this year. I changed the story slightly so I can give you the first hand experience. I'm sure that Bård's injury hurt a lot worse than mine since he had it in his neck and mine was in my thorax- and lumbar spine, but well, that I didn't experience. But I hope you still can get a pretty good H/C fic out of it^^  
> Not beta-ed this time, no one has to correct my self-therapy sessions :P

Bård couldn't hide his smile anymore when the crowd started gasping and cheering as he balanced his body in between the sheets. It was the most difficult figure of the whole aerial silk performance, and the crowd could tell.   
Vegard had filmed him once during training, and he knew that his “crossed Jesus stunt” (as they called it in between them and his trainer) looked spectacular.   
But the best reward for his months of training was the gasp of surprise he could hear coming from the audience. Ylvis, they probably thought, would fail terribly at playing Saint – Saens' “The Swan” (which was Vegard's part) and in performing high up above the stage. That was their usual kind of humour, he had to admit.   
This time, the hilarious part would be that they broke with their habit and mastered something really difficult, taking everyone by surprise. Especially since everyone would be waiting for a punchline at the Norwegian comedy awards where they performed tonight.   
Pulling himself up on the sheets he prepared for the figures he would perform upside down, hanging from his feet he would wrap around the fabric. Those were not too hard to do, but he had to be very careful about them. Letting his body fall down uncontrolled could damage his back, after all.   
In time with Vegard finishing the last tact of the main theme, he tensed the muscles of his abdomen and let go of the white fabric, so that he took a controlled fall until he hung headfirst from the sheets. If possible, the audience cheered even louder while he held the position for a few seconds, letting go of the fabric with his left arm gracefully.  
While he pulled himself up again, Vegard played a terrible, dissonant tone on his cello. And with the atmosphere of the beautiful song vanished Bård's concentration. He was a pro and had practiced this routine with his brother many times, but maybe that was their mistake. He was so used to perform with the melody, that this one false note completely destroyed everything, his routine in their performance, his concentration and also his memory of everything he had learned over the last couple of months.   
But being a pro in performing also helped him over the worst black out in a matter of seconds. He automatically pulled his body up and his mind together, although many thoughts were running through his brain. He knew he had to prepare the grand finale of the performance, but how did he have to wrap the fabric around his legs again?   
He went through the whole routine in his mind, trying to remember which steps he would have to take next.   
Judging on Vegard's playing, he wasn't as agitated about his false note as Bård was. Bård normally wouldn't be either, but the excitement of performing in a live award show, the awareness that he was performing half naked in a pair of leggings, and the dependability on the memory pattern he followed just made his mind go blank after one thing went different than he was used to.   
But he didn't linger on that and tried to remember every step that was to come. He was positive that he remembered the rest of the performance correctly. He would just have to concentrate on the end figure, and the audience wouldn't notice a thing.   
He pulled himself up by his right arm and used the left one to guide the sheets around and between his legs gracefully. Then he turned upright again, coiling himself into the fabric once more, gripped the end of the fabric and let go.   
The moment he did the double spin he remembered that his trainer always told him to tense his muscles before letting himself fall upside down. This was the most important rule, never letting his muscles go loose, his spine wouldn't be able to hold his head against the centrifugal forces.   
But he had already gained so much momentum that he couldn't prepare against the rebound when the fabric around his knee stopped his fall and catapulted him backwards into a horizontal position. It was an unimaginable pain that accompanied Vegard's high A on the cello. It felt like someone pinched him inside of this neck into his spine, and the pain spread like a collar around his neck.   
Bård saw stars and only didn't fall because his muscle memory made him grip the sheet above his hip.  
While he lowered himself on the rope, he wanted to relax his neck muscles so badly, but didn't dare since he feared that his head would just fall down and pull the rest of his body with it.   
He tried to keep a straight face, telling himself that he managed the performance and his stage time was almost over. He succeeded, but couldn't concentrate. He felt like throwing up, every movement he made hurt so much, and the pain went through his whole spine down to his coccyx which was still held up by the aerial silk sheet. He just wanted to go, he was going crazy from the pain and wanted off the stage, but knew that he had to go on for another minute.   
When his feet touched the ground, he let go of the sheet and and tried to relax his muscles a bit.   
The pain got even worse and now gripped his head, feeling like the worst migraine he ever had, so he flexed every muscle he had in his upper body and didn't even dare to breath.   
Taking a step to the side felt as if someone kicked him in the gut and tried to rip his head off his shoulders at the same time. He felt like collapsing, but managed to take a few steps up to his brother, faking a smile for the audience and blowing them a kiss. Raising his arm to wave at them was torturous, but he was running on auto pilot by now and wouldn't even have known how to stop himself from following the practiced routine.   
As the audience clapped and cheered, even getting up from their seats, he knew he had to bow. When he bent in his back with his legs standing straight a little, he was sure that he was going to faint. Hot flames licked along his spine, beginning at his neck and eating their way down to his backside and up over his whole head. His knees buckled, and he was only barely able to change his bow into a curtsy.   
Vegard next to him didn't seem to notice anything, and so Bård smiled one last time at the audience and then left the stage as fast as he could. Each steps felt like someone was stabbing him in the back, and he leaned his forehead and his arms against the wall as soon as they were off the stage. He closed his eyes and tried to breath deeply against the pain, but each breath strained his injured neck more, and soon all he managed were shallow breaths. He heard Vegard talking to him, asking if he was okay, but the pain, the shortness of breath and the rapidly growing panic left him unable to answer.   
He didn't know what happened exactly. He had often heard that a lumbago felt murderous, but had never expected that level of pain.   
He felt Vegard taking him by the arms and, half hugging him, leading him away. Bård kept his arms around his neck, stabilizing his head so that he didn't hurt which each step and the vibration it brought. Vegard kept asking questions, but Bård only moaned in pain, indicating that he wouldn't answer them anytime soon.   
He felt nauseous, and was relieved when they finally arrived at their wardrobe and Vegard opened the door for him.   
His big brother hurried forward, dragging Bård in with one warm, and dragging out a chair for Bård with the other. When Vegard gently pushed him into it, Bård couldn't stop a pained wail when he added pressure to his spine. After a moment the white hot pain went away, leaving a constant throbbing, burning and pinching pressure in his back. Bård didn't care at the moment and allowed himself to relax a little. He opened his eyes which he had closed at the immense pain and looked for his brother. Vegard was kneeling before him and, like he was afraid to touch Bård, had put his hands on the armrests of the chair. When he saw that Bård was a little more receptive, he looked his brother in the eyes and came closer to him to inspect his body.  
“Bård, what's the matter? Where do you hurt, and what happened?”  
“Neck.” Bård simply answered, and added: “Lumbago maybe.”  
Vegard nodded, stood up and went into the small bathroom attached to their wardrobe. When Bård heard that Vegard had turned on the faucet, he began to reflect on his performance. He felt so stupid for forgetting the most important rule of aerial silk, and that he might sit out the performances they had planned for the rest of the season if his self diagnosis was correct. How could he be so careless? He felt so dumb, and he didn't even know how to get to the hotel this evening, let alone dress himself. And then he remembered that he was still half naked, he forgot the T-shirt he had backstage so that he wouldn't have to wander through the whole backstage area shirtless.   
All of this thoughts and more ideas ran through his head, he was blaming himself and hoped that his injury wouldn't hinder his brother and himself in their job too much.   
Vegard returned with a wet towel, which he carefully wrapped around Bård's nape. Bård noticed that it was warm, and the warmth helped relax his muscles a bit. It didn't help in making the pain go away though, if anything Bård felt it becoming even more profound with his muscles getting looser.   
Vegard stood in front of him, waiting for a reaction from Bård. He seemed anxious, which made Bård a little angry. If his brother hadn't played this wrong note, he wouldn't have to worry about Bård ruining their perfect attendance in their performances. Seriously, he would never back out of a show if he could still stand upright.  
At the same moment Bård felt ashamed for blaming his brother. He himself had had a blackout, he had lost his concentration and posture. It was his fault alone, and he had to try to make it right.   
Moving and getting ready to leave would be a good idea. Maybe he could ask Vegard to help him?  
“Vegard... can you help me to the bath room? I wanna leave... and I gotta pee!” Bård added. Vegard nodded and carefully helped Bård stand up by putting one arm under his taller brother's armpits and pulling.   
As soon as Bård was moving, the pain came back in nauseating waves. He leaned heavily on his sturdier brother, and as soon as he was completely standing on his feet, pain rolled down his back in waves, and it felt like someone hit him in the solar plexus, only that the feeling spread around his neck. Bård felt sick, and letting go of Vegard, he stumbled into the bathroom, letting himself fall and coil around the toilet into which he vomited what was left of his dinner.   
The heaving made his muscles clench, and Bård was surprised he didn't pass out from the pain.  
Normally he felt better after puking, but today the felt like a sledgehammer was pounding against his body.   
The feeling remembered him of getting spanked as child, only was it a thousand times more intense and spread through his whole body by now.   
When he felt a little better, he got up from the floor.

He opened his eyes and stared into a paramedic's face. He smiled and greeted her, immediately realizing she was there for him, but not yet aware of why he was on a bathroom floor. So, it seemed that he did pass out from the pain after all. He wanted to chuckle but didn't manage to.   
His brother was sitting next to him, and he realized that a blanket was laid over him. He was still half naked, and his head hurt terribly. His neck also did, but he didn't really care. He felt happy and sad at the same time, but not distressed. He knew that he should be stressed out, yet he didn't feel that way.   
Vegard and the paramedic looked down on him, and Bård smiled up to them.   
“Bård, do you hear me?”  
“Yeah, ev'fing is fine, Ve-aar!”  
“Mr. Ylvisåker, do you feel cold or nauseous?”  
“California!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a birthday present for my wonderful friend Anu :-* stay as wonderful as you are, and have an awesome b-day!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, this was weird writing. Most things I'm describing here I experienced myself, and I'm trying to describe the feeling, but it is very hard. Idk, I think it makes for a good fanfiction anyways :)

„California!“  
Vegard, who had looked a little more relieved when Bård had finally opened his eyes after 20 long minutes that seemed like a millennium to him, immediately frowned again.  
Bård looked from his brother to the paramedic who just put a blood pressure cuff around his left arm and back to his brother. Only with his eyes of course, his neck was stiff and hurt like hell. Funny.   
“… dawas not riwww… right… cow… damn!”  
Bård was getting aggravated. He felt a little cold, but the words just didn’t come out like he wished them to.   
“Your blood pressure is a little low. Mr. Ylvisåker, are you epileptic? Or did you faint before?”  
Vegard answered the questions for him, telling the paramedics that his little brother had always been in best health, only that his neck hurt after the performance. The paramedic ignored that.   
“Did you take any medicine, are you drunk, could someone have slipped something into your drink?”  
“No, Bård has never taken anything except the occasional migraine pill. And well, someone has put something in his drink before, but this evening… no. I was with him all of the time.”  
After pointing a light in both of Bård’s eyes, letting him touch his own nose with his finger and asking him to show her his tongue, Bård was told that he had to go to a hospital to get checked out. In the meantime the paramedic put a needle in Bård’s arm, drew some blood and let the needle in, for an infusion he would receive later without doubt.   
Bård, being able to mutter again, started to protest. Suddenly the good mood he was in earlier started to dissipate, and dread filled him. What about the show, what about his family?  
Vegard shushed him as if he was a little boy. Bård was irritated, but understood his brother’s fears when he looked into his caring eyes. Of course Vegard wanted him to get checked out.  
Vegard cradled Bård’s head to help him get up from the cold floor, but suddenly pulled away again, pulling in air sharply through his teeth.  
“What Vegard?! What is it?”  
Vegard exchanged a long look with the paramedic, then focused his eyes on Bård and turned around his hand. The fingers were bloodied, if only a bit.  
“Fuck… did I hit my head?” Bard asked and felt his head. There was a huge boil, and he could feel the damp of blood on his fingers. Not too much, but enough to tint his fingers in the colour which made him very, very nervous. When did he hit his head?  
“Bård, what do you remember?”  
Bård tried to focus, but it was as if he was drunk. He knew he went to the toilet to… well. And he got up after it. And then he remembered seeing the paramedic. Nothing more.  
“You know Vegard, I went to the toilet, to do… well you know what I did…”  
And suddenly Bård felt as if he looked into a flashlight next to two boom boxes, one playing ACDC and one Rammstein. He could smell blood, and he realized he was still talking. But he couldn’t control it. Words spilled out of his mouth, although he didn’t know which ones. Was he making sense? What was he saying, goddammit?  
With all of his will, he focused on asking Vegard if he was making sense. He didn’t even realize if this came out right. He couldn’t stop babbling though, and added that he felt that he had no control over what he was saying. Heck, he didn’t know if that really was what he was saying. Who knew? Bård started to feel panic creeping up on him but was able to finally shut up.   
Vegard looked deeply concerned at his speech. “Bård, I can understand what you are trying to say, but some of your words don’t make any sense. You have to go to the hospital!”  
Bård blinked in agreement. Anything to stop this. He had never felt so useless, helpless and isolated in this entire life.   
The paramedics tried to assist him in standing up, but as soon as he tried to straighten his upper body, the terrible, terrible pain in his neck was back. That was only his secondary problem at the moment, but it prevented Bård from getting up, and he swatted Vegard’s hands away as he tried to lift him up himself. It hurt so much, still did, that he saw little bolts of lightning in his vision. It all was too much, too much pressure, stress, pain, panic, fear.   
The paramedic seemed to notice that Bård had reached his limits. She motioned her colleagues to get the stretcher. Bård just let himself fall to the floor once again.   
Vegard put a hand on his shoulder, and, maybe for the first time in 20 years, Bård reached out to take it into his own hand. Vegard was something steady to hold on, something warm and something he knew he could trust. He needed the support of his big brother, now that he couldn’t even trust his own brain anymore.   
The paramedics arrived with the stretcher, and, one taking him by the feet, one by the shoulder and Vegard carefully steadying his head, lifted Bård onto it. Bård had anticipated it to be very painful, but he hardly felt it.   
He felt guilty and uncomfortable though. One wouldn’t suspect it, but, contrary to his job, Bård didn’t like to be the center of attention in private. He didn’t like to be cared for, and he certainly didn’t like to be lifted. He even resented it with Vegard, if it wasn’t part of the show. He knew that he wasn’t too heavy to lift by any means, still he felt that others shouldn’t be bothered lifting him, neither physically nor emotionally.   
Bård was soon fixated to the stretcher. He hardly noticed that he was moving until the stretcher rattled onto the concrete outside of the theater and cold air hit him. Soon afterwards he was rolled into the ambulance; the white light hurt his eyes after the relative darkness outside. Vegard sat down next to him and laid his hand on Bård’s arm. As soon as the doctor climbed into the vehicle and the doors were closed the ambulance began to move, occasionally they heard the signal above their heads. The moving blue and red lights made him feel dizzy when he watched them painting colourful shadows onto the white ambulance walls.   
He listened to the paramedics, and as soon as one of the men corrected himself after he slipped on a word, Bård had another episode. This time it was as if the corrected sentence ran on a loop in his head, and he smelled and tasted blood again. He started to feel sick and couldn’t listen to anything that was said again.   
“Concentrate, Bård, you can beat it!”, he thought. But on what should he concentrate, when the loop of the correction was running amok in his head? The first thing that came to his mind was a song they were going to present during the first season of the new talk show they would soon be hosting. It was called Pressure, and it had a very catchy beat and chorus. Bård tried to sing it in his head, but the words kept changing tune and pitch until the song ran parallel to the loop. Frustrated he held his head in his hands and pressed his eyes shut until he saw white stars, but nothing helped.   
One of the paramedics saw this and asked if he was okay, and Bård heard himself answer: “Yeahhhh… jusssst… a little confused, it is allll soo much!”  
Vegard bent over him so that his face was aligned to Bård’s, then held his upper arms in his hands and looked him in the eyes. Bård concentrated on Vegard’s eyes and could see the barely hidden panic, the deep concern and the fright Vegard felt at the moment. But he could also see the love his big brother had for him, the promise that they would defeat every problem that would come their way and the reassurance that everything would be fine in the end.   
Bård concentrated on that and on the warmth Vegard’s hands were offering to him, and the loop became less terrifying, less spiking and less loud until it vanished in the end. Bård almost felt like crying, now that the stress had ended, and with that came the realization of the situation he was in.   
“Veeegard, I don’t… w-what haaap-peend? The show, and the work, and… oh god, what is wrong with me, I can’t stay at the hossssspital!”  
Bård started struggling against the restraints of the stretcher despite the pain his neck was giving him from these actions, but Vegard quickly leaned over Bård and hushed him.  
“Bård, let’s just concentrate on you at the moment. Work is not important, the show is not important. You are important, and we have to get you checked out. You fainted, I don’t know if you are sick or if it is from the pain, but I want you to be okay again. We will manage, we always did! Don’t worry about anything else despite getting better!”  
Bård knew that his brother was right, and he would have said the same if their role was reversed. Still, in the back of this mind, he knew that this wasn’t the ideal moment to get hurt. They were on the verge of their breakthrough, and he might just be ruining their chance of becoming big stars.   
But at the moment it was most important not to upset Vegard. Bård wouldn’t be able to keep his cool if his brother would be collapsing, and he knew that Vegard was going through hell right now. He had to keep it together, and if it was only for Vegard’s sake. He concentrated on his breathing for now and tried to ignore the nagging pain.   
The ambulance went slower and ultimately stopped. The doors of the vehicle were opened by a smiling nurse and the paramedic. “Here we are, Mr. Ylvisåker. My name is Nina, I will make sure you are okay during the test! You must be the brother? Could you please go ahead and go over the formalities with my colleague?”  
Vegard agreed and pressed Bård’s shoulder a last time before he climbed out of the ambulance. Immediately Bård felt dread and loneliness creeping into his head again. But as soon as Vegard was out of sight Bård was rolled out of the vehicle, too, and into a dark hallway. As soon as they moved the lights flickered on and Bård had to close his eyes. He felt his body shift as he was rolled around the corner and asked himself if he maybe was in a very weird dream. This situation didn’t feel real, he felt as if he was floating.   
“Mr. Ylvisåker, are you still with us? Good! We are going to make a Computer tomography of your head. Your brother already signed the papers as your next of kin, so don’t worry. The CT will show us if you have any injuries or blood inside your head. There will be a few x-rays, but don’t worry, it won’t hurt you. It might get loud though, so if you panic or feel worse or anything, just yell, I will be in the next room!”  
Bård just hummed his agreement, and let himself be transferred to the special CT – stretcher. It felt cold to his back, but he didn’t mind. Neither did he mind the loud machine, he was glad to have something to focus on despite his momentarily situation.  
After a few minutes the sounds faded and Nina came into the room again. She was accompanied by a doctor who told him that despite a hematoma outside of his skull his head seemed to be fine. There was no internal bleeding, no stroke, no signs for an epileptic seizure, all in all no explanation for his fainting.   
Next came the MRT. Bård was informed that he would be put into a tunnel and that he would have to tell them if he had any metal on him because of the magnets. Bård denied.   
Being pushed into the tunnel was less than pleasant. It was cold, loud, and he felt claustrophobic. But after the events of this day, Bård didn’t feel too bad about it. It was just a minor catastrophe, something that would be over soon, something he could deal with.   
But he was also nervous about the results of the tests. He was young, he had always been healthy, and they were just starting their carrier. If he was fucked up and couldn’t perform anymore, not only was his life over but also his brother’s.   
The nurse told him that the MRT was over and Bård felt himself being pulled out of the tunnel. He was rolled back into the corridor again where Vegard joined him, eagerly asking him if they found out anything. Bård was in no mood to talk, he couldn’t look his brother in the eyes. How could Vegard not see that Bård had ruined everything? He wanted to turn his head away but was reminded that it wasn’t possible by the pain in his neck. He felt like throwing up again.   
He heard Nina talking to Vegard in the background, and Vegard’s relieved laugh when he heard that Bård wasn’t brain damaged. Of course he was relieved; Vegard didn’t have to care for a mentally disabled brother at least. Bård started to hate himself for how he thought about his caring brother, on top of the self hate he had for landing himself in the hospital anyways.  
Bård was rolled into a hospital room, it was empty except for him, and he realized that it was very late already. The hospital corridor was empty, the windows showed the dark night outside and he felt alone.   
Nina came back to him and started connecting an infusion to the needle in Bård’s hand. She said something about pain and sleep medication and not to move and that she would check on him in the night and that he could use the red button to call for help but Bård didn’t care and just thanked her politely. All she said registered in his brain, but it felt like the words were a rushed vortex, getting repeated and washed out before they reached his mind.   
He did care that suddenly Vegard stood before him. He looked tired, worried, afraid, he had bags under his eyes and the very few lines his face had looked very pronounced. Bård extended his hand, and Vegard took it into his own, trying to give him some warmth.   
“Bård, the nurse said that the MRT results will be here in the morning. You are going to fall asleep soon. I will go to the hotel room and get some of your stuff, and I will be here again first thing in the morning, okay? Don’t worry, you will be okay again soon, your head is fine and you are alive! That is what counts, I am so relieved. You could be dead now, so the rest is just details. Do you understand me? Everything is going to be fine!”  
Bård agreed and wished Vegard a good night, so did Vegard and left. Bård wanted him to leave and at the same time felt like he wanted his big brother by his side forever.  
You could be dead now.   
I could be dead. I just survived something potentially deadly. I don’t know what that is.  
These thoughts didn’t make Bård more relaxed, quite the opposite. For the first time this night he felt the threat of the situation in his stomach, he was restless and wanted someone to protect him. He was close to panicking, he… felt that the medications ran their course and fell asleep within a minute.


End file.
